Love Locked In
by damnation soldier
Summary: "Asami Sato, Republic City High School's richest beauty finds herself straying away from romance after falling out with her boyfriend roughly two years ago. Little did she know, she finds the one who impossibly captures her heart in a way no one ever could, only to find he's not supposed to be hers. Period." Note: Modern!AU. No bending.


**Chapter 1**

Sweet Poison

_"How can you act like you know?  
When all you know it's a lie, another truth to expose  
Freedom will catch up and rise  
We find this truth, we fight, you lose"_

I sighed for the twelfth time, it seemed.

"Yes, _Korra._ How many times do I have to tell you? I am totally fine with the way things are between us. And no, you didn't make it awkward when you had Mako come the other day for our midterms study session. He actually helped with the math. So thanks for that."

If she needed anymore convincing, the girl was going to owe me a throat lozenge for making me talk this much. I was beyond the limit of exasperation.

"But, you haven't left anywhere except for school and the factory garage in two _months._ It's like you're avoiding human contact, Asami! It's not healthy believe me," Korra's far less strained voice came from over the phone I had on loud speaker on my desk. I knew what she was saying, the girl had personal experience herself, being home-schooled in her earlier years of education.

I was multitasking the two entirely different tasks of handling my friend over our past than two hours long call, and doing one of my favorite things, browsing for cars on sale at racingjunk online. It's probably the fifth time I'll be buying an old, shitty piece of wheeled metal and to only modify it myself into one bad-ass hot rod in a matter of months. It's the self given project that's both a hobby and a training regime.

Well for those of you who don't know who I am, and don't understand why I like doing that sort of stuff, here goes.. My name's Asami Sato. Ring a bell? Well my last name should.

My family, well my dad, built Future Industries, the billion dollar car industry. Pretty huge, right? The company's incredible. It's very well known especially in the states, and it ranks so high up even running a monopoly in the more primitive corners of the continent. The corporate just went international to the whole United Republic of Nations five years ago.

It's wicked how I get to live because of my family's success. Mansion home and all.

But contrary to popular belief, I wasn't your typical spoiled heiress. My head's pretty much all business, it's just that not a lot of people knew me well enough to see the real me.

Well for starters, I know what grief feels like.

When I was about three and a half or maybe four, my mom was murdered when our house got robbed. Back then Future Industries hadn't start out yet, my dad was still in the process of making loans and getting shareholders.

Our house was also much more modest back then, so not many items were stolen but a few trinkets and vintage valuables were, inevitably. It angers me to know that most of them were heirlooms belonging to my mother.

I had to grow up quick. But a bright side comes with the tragedy despite it all. I grew closer to my dad, our interests benefit each other and his great love compensated for the one I lost in my late mother.

Naturally because of the family business, and regardless of my father's subtle steering, I really was headed to his direction. I loved automobiles, either the technical engineering part or the test the crap out of our new model part. Definitely the testing part, it's insane how much I adore racing and speeding through the track.

My dad tried getting me involved in the administrative part of the work, meaning desk jobs and the economy of it all. I told him no. I wanted to work on the field, getting dirty and handling the work that makes muscles sore. He complied in one condition, I would eventually be obligated learn the office matters once I turned twenty.

When I turned fifteen dad had explicitly stated that one day, as his sole heir I'd inherit his legacy, the entire industry and all of his immeasurable worldly riches. The thought of taking such responsibility terrifies me, but at the same time, it swells my pride knowing that my dad trusted me enough to take his position when time calls for it.

Some people from the board of directors weren't happy about his decision. Landing the reigns to an offspring was normal of course, but a young female one to lead a company that manufacture cars and other vehicles? It was a bit off-putting in a perspective. I get it of course.

And a fraction of them were unhappy for other reasons. They were disheartened to find that their time working on Future Industries being led by a man like Hiroshi was worthlessly bound to be turned under the feet of someone as unprofessional as they thought I was. They were also spiteful because the shared blood factor outweighs all things and thus dismisses any chance any of them might have at becoming CEO.

Very few, had thought otherwise. They were the ones who were closest to my father and came to the house a lot, thus seeing what I can really do. They actually respected me, and not just for who I am. They're the ones who think the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

With my dad's encouragement I decided to turn that very few to all of them instead. I was going to prove them wrong, that Asami Sato deserved to lead Future Industries. I was well on my way, I could gladly say, having two thirds of the directors convinced I was suited for the authority job.

Speaking of immersing myself in everything Future Industries, I pretty much don't have a life outside of that.

I'm exaggerating. It wasn't always that way.

I was really popular back then, and still am. For my family's riches, and my looks. It wouldn't hurt to stare, you know? But one breakup sorta cracked my skin.

A breakup that happened to be with Mako. The one and only guy I've ever dated in my life.

We dated for a year, it actually started on my fifteenth birthday, so my birthday had been our anniversary when the relationship lasted. How we met was pretty funny, and cute. It was actually just after the Future Industries meeting where my dad had informed the big guns of how I'd fit into the industry, and believe me, their reaction was so overwhelming I had to excuse myself, albeit guiltily to leave early.

But as I've learned, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. The birthday card also came in handy.

I remembered it crystal clear. I just went out the basement parking lot on my bike and zoomed through the street. And just my luck, I crashed into one of the handsomest man I've ever seen.

That sounded wrong.

I almost road killed someone to get a boyfriend. But at least it wasn't one sided when it began.

_The painful screech of the brakes and the sound of a skid from his weight rolling across the pavement ended at the same time. I felt horrible, I knew my face had paled. He was merely crossing the street, and I literally ran a full course to hit him as if he'd been a bumper or some sort.  
_

_"Oh, no! I'm sorry, I didn't see you!" I ran, ripping off my headgear in an instant, wanting to inspect him for any injuries. Other than a few scratches, and maybe a bruised elbow, he was fine to my relief. He was fuming though, "How could you not see me?! I-ah, oh, woah," he stuttered, and struggled to find the words to reprimand me for the assault anymore. His demeanor completely changed into one of a flustered boy, and I could assume just why.  
_

_I had a tendency to overshadow the opposite sex with my appearance. It had some perks obviously, like detaining the stranger's previous fury and turning it into something somewhat amusing and adorable. On the other hand, I don't like the free pass factor in life or the generally perverted coquettes who usually try to close in their distance.  
_

_"I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz. Did I hurt you?" I asked, helping him to get up. He was strong enough on his own and got on his feet in flash. I noted his height, he was tall and he had a lean build, the muscles yet still prominent through the brown coat-like jacket. What he was wearing was normal of course, but the red scarf he had wrapped around his neck I regarded as something unique. And indeed it was.  
_

_"No don't worry, I- ah, I'm fine," he composed himself thoroughly. Dusting himself off, he seemed to have gained a level of confidence, "My brother hits me harder than that in practice." And that's when he turned to me, our eyes locking and everything clicked. I refused the urge to face palm or anything of the like. "Wait, I recognize you. You're Mako. You play for the Fire Ferrets!" The Fire Ferrets was RCHS's boxing team. Mako was a rookie, but he's somehow weaseled his way becoming one of the most notable out-fighters, and I can see why. I'd been to most of their matches and he's almost always won by a long shot, he was a shoo-in for MVP and maybe a captain once the year was over. _

_"Yeah, that's me," he sheepishly says and grins.  
_

_I couldn't hold it in, my hand came up to my face briefly, and as if voicing my thoughts I said, "I'm so embarrassed." I no longer shielded my face and instead reached over to shake his hand for a proper introduction. Our shake was firm and I think there was something there, I liked how my gloved fingers had tingled from the touch of his warm hand. "My name's Asami. Let me make this up to you somehow. Uh, how about I treat you to dinner? Tomorrow night, eight o' clock, Kuang's Cuisine." The place was one of my favorite restaurants and it'd be kinda hilarious to see his reaction once he knew of my identity. From the way he's regarded me, I was almost sure he didn't really piece together that I'm a Sato. During that time I hadn't yet to be mentioned in the papers on a regular basis too, so it wasn't hard to believe. The big publicity would actually start today, or maybe it had, the moment I walked out of the industry's office. I walked back to my motorcycle then, because I wasn't going to take a 'no' for an answer.  
_

_"Uh, Kuang's? I don't have any clothes nice enough for a place that classy," he seems uneasy and I knew why. Mako was a scholarship student for his boxing which was why he's really good despite being the newbie then. At the age of eight, he's lost his parents to a mugging and had lived on some odd, somewhat immoral or humiliating jobs to survive and protect his younger brother. The owner of a gym, formerly a boxing brawl building named Toza had adopted him when he turned twelve. Toza provided them both with tuition and a sufficient living and the brothers were making the most of it. Especially the eldest. Toza himself was a glorified ex-boxer whom retired once he turned thirty because of a neck injury that never really went away. Mako, who'd been street fighting his whole life to protect Bolin and himself was a natural for the sport, so undergoing training really merit his schooling and maybe his potential career. _

_I clasped the helmet's tie below my chin as I wore it once more, not slipping the goggles on just yet. I tried easing him, my tone light and pleasant, it apparently worked. "I'll take care of that. All you need to do is show up. So... it's a date?" I was somewhat bold, but even without a mother figure I knew how to be enticing, enchanting, at least well enough to get my way when it's harmless. The boy was eye-candy even on first glance.  
_

_Tinted green lens came between my line of sight, but the hint of bashfulness on his face was clear even through distorted colors. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. I'll see you tomorrow night." I was satisfied with his reply that I went on my way, revving the engine and in no time, a distance away. I sneaked a look backwards though, and it sends butterflies in my stomach to see his smile._

First impressions are always great, I told myself. And it really is. _  
_

And it can extend to a prolonged time, that I know of. Mako and I, we had a great deal in common and those similarities both helped and created difficulties in our relationship. There were some really fun, and heavy loving times. We were practically holding the other one's hand, or kissing. But that warmth eventually faded, replaced by the complications.

You see, because of my privileges I had apparently sometimes went a bit too far in showering Mako with means towards a better life. I just wanted him to not worry about his future and his brother's, I want him to feel secure and safe. For a while, it worked.

But then Mako became uncomfortable at accepting my charity. We had a few spats about that time to time again, and it blew up once into this really huge fight. Thank goodness it was verbal though, but I truly shouldn't be thinking of the possibility of it getting physical because beneath the exterior, Mako was the gentlest and most caring guy I've ever known. I'd never been the type to slap anyways either, it just wasn't my liking.

After cooling down and having a long conversation, we decided it was best to break up. It was clear that we were heading nowhere and even if we did continue because of our stubbornness and attraction for each other, it would end up on a worse climax than the one that happened.

I got over him, slowly and painfully. The reason it'd been hard was because of how deeply connected I once felt to him, how I've already dreamed so many times how we'd stay strong. And another thing was I didn't realize how much his disappearance as a lover really affected me. In a way it was as if I'd lost my mother all over again. It felt like it was the same. Losing another face, another voice, another hand to hold, another ear to whisper my confessions to.

That's heartbreak, and enduring it once was bad enough, twice, I broke.

Mako and I don't have any animosity between us though, and that's the good part. However it doesn't mean I was open to being around him on a daily basis and I do try to avoid watching the Fire Ferrets play as much as I can. Over time it wasn't too awkward, in fact we were biology partners last semester and it worked out just fine, but still, it just feels odd and I feel like I don't belong.

In fact I don't belong anywhere. Anywhere but the Sato business, and that was why I began to detach from the outside world. I'm still very close to Korra, the Inuit-Canadian girl who's been my best friend since elementary school. About a year and a half after my breakup, Korra had admitted to having feelings for Mako to me.

Apparently she felt it was necessary to confide in me and have my blessing if she and him were to engage in a relationship. I was far over Mako in romantic terms about eight months after we ended it, so I'd literally shoved Korra onto the park's pond (we'd been taking a morning jog together when she decided to spill her beans) for being a chicken.

She hadn't need to worry about me. Korra's a bright girl, my only trusted friend who was a sister to me, and she'd bottle up her pent feelings just out of fear for upsetting me? I felt like the biggest idiot for not noticing the several times she's implied of having a crush and for not figuring out it must've been someone touchy for me since she prevented herself from lapsing over and damaging our friendship. You see, it wasn't like Korra to wait and be patient. Tomboyish and predatory, my best girl was something of an impulsively driven soul.

Korra was thankful for how I'd reacted and after a short while, she and Mako became a solid couple. Apparently they've always had this bickering, Fire and Ice dynamic that's kept the attachment very lively yet serious at the same time. They completed each other, far better than I've completed him, to my shame.

But I was happy for them. It's true.

And I'm happy for myself. Well, that's a lie.

Korra knew it was. She's the one who hasn't given up on trying to drag me out of this hermit hole she claims I'm living in. I think she's returning the favor I did back when she transferred in during fourth grade. So what if I haven't been doing anything fancy excluding Future Industries events? It doesn't make me an outsider. And even if it did, I kinda liked the taste of it.

_You don't._

_I do.  
_

_Admit that you don't sometimes. Like when you're looking at those old year books and seeing how many clubs you're involved in. Were involved in, I mean.  
_

_No. Shut up, okay? Being in the crowd means nothing to me.  
_

_Oh really? You are a really bad liar, you know?  
_

I should consider myself going ballistic for having an inner battle of my two consciences, but the thing is, it's pretty normal for me. The other voice, used to be someone else's. Mako's. _  
_

But he's gone. And I've decided to never let anyone in to replace him.

"Hey, Asami, you still there?"

"Yeah," I replied Korra, now switching to normal mode instead of loud speaker, cool metal resting against my ear. I wondered what I'd missed from Korra's ramble during my monologue and flashbacks. Probably has something to do with weird insults and jabs that really doesn't offend me given how jumbled they sound, the girl had always possessed the quirky, inelegant yet refreshing sort of fiery to her. It reminds me, I hadn't try to remember my time with Mako for a long time now, so maybe I am getting a bit lonely.

_A bit?_

_More like horribly so that it nauseates you.  
_

"Okay I'll repeat," the blue eyed girl's voice turned persuasive once more. "You need some air. And not just the eight hour of academics sort of air, or the oil and gasoline scented air. When was the last time you actually _came_ to someone's party and not just FedEx-ed in your presents?" She interrogated, making me squirm in my cozy leather seat.

"I don't know. I couldn't remember, it must've slipped my mind," I shrugged, even though she can't see the gesture over the phone.

"Shit, 'Ami. The end of the world is coming. When _the_ Asami Sato cannot recall her last grandeur stiletto entrance off the staircase to join the elites, the final sign of apocalypse, _oh,_" Korra moans, and I laughed.

"This is not funny!" She fussed, and I can almost see cerulean blue turning electric and fierce. I ceased my laughter, "Kor, seriously, this is just the way I am," I explained, a bit tiredly, "I swear nothing has changed between us. And I have no ill feelings towards Mako or anyone. It's just that, I'm no longer accustomed to stepping on the scene and mingling with you guys."

"Prove it."

"Prove what? That I'm no different from a fish out of water in the common teenage presence? I think I pretty much proved that from the whole I've exiled myself like a princess trapped in a tower. Oh wait, add to that, a princess trapped in a tower who lacks the will to escape."

"No," she said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Prove to me that you and Mako are doing alright, that you can at least exchange more than three sentences and actually laugh in close proximity with each other for whatever reason without bothering to cover it up."

This was actually better than the agreement she tried to batch up with me an hour ago. Let's just say it involved a double date and me being set up with Bolin, who as Korra has said, had his green eyes bulging the size of a golf ball whenever I pass by him at the school's halls. Apparently he's had a thing for me for quite sometime, I just didn't know of it. Cold and oblivious some might say.

I ended up brushing off her terms faster than you could sneeze. Korra dismissed it for the moment, though I'm sure she'd bring it up sometime later. What matters now though is getting whatever tension Korra believes is there between me and the amber eyed male to dissipate through a simple but technically planned and awkwardly forced encounter.

"So you're hiring the clown? Or are you just gonna ask Bolin to come along?" I asked, refining a bit of humor.

"Probably the second one. It's cheaper," Korra said, mulling it over, half jokingly and half considering the option itself. We shared a short moment of laughter, before I took a breath.

"Do you promise that after I maintain a natural and completely neutral conversation," the girl clears her throat cutting me, I rolled my eyes, "Fine, a natural, completely neutral and _friendly_ conversation with my ex-boyfriend who's now _your_ boyfriend, you'd stop bugging me about my less than public hangouts?"

"Yes," she answered, though I knew she wouldn't be satisfied so easily with this deal. I was too beat to cover up anything else regarding my presently depressing social life, and don't even get to the romantic part of it. My heart was practically stitched and closed off, and my lipstick, well they never fade since I never leave anymore imprints.

I glanced at the clock, reading it was late, almost one o'clock in the morning. Korra was totally hijacking my beauty sleep patterns, not that she's the primary factor though, since I rarely sleep without interruptions nor problems.

Nightmares. Insomnia. You name it, it's in my system.

"Where then?"

"I have this all figured out!" _Of course you do, Kor. You sneaky little monster._

"I'm not getting any younger.." I taunted, wanting to just change into a set of pajamas and leap onto my bed even though slumber will not claim me soon.

"Do you have a costume?"

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Never mind, you're a millionaire, of course you have a nice Victoria Secret Angel getup somewhere in your closet.."

"Korra!"

"Hot Santa?"

"You're kidding," I deadpanned, mixing a bit of my famed sarcasm into it.

"I'm not. Open the school's website," she commanded, and I did shortly after loading it through my browser on a new window.

"RCHS Halloween Bash open for public. Tomorrow night from seven," I read aloud, feeling the corners of my red lips turning to a petulant pout.

After a few seconds, apparently Korra knew I was contemplating my choice and had predicted I would give in since she's not overly elated when she hears my answer, but rather expectant instead. Typical.

"Fine."

"Great, see you tomorrow night," she chirped, and I could imagine Korra grinning that damn, shit eating grin she always does when things go her way. "Yeah," I sighed, as I took my cue and disconnected the line.

_Thirteen._

* * *

The school event committee really outdone themselves. What used to be the formal, stuffy and bland city hall was now a gothic palace. The color scheme was incredibly dark, hues of blood red, black and purple, with glitter, sparkles and spooky stitches in between. It resulted in a very haunted yet glamorous look. Coupled with the hundred something people dressed as a multitude of characters or mere formal wear for the lazier ones occupying the large space and filling it to all corners, it was surely a party.

The lighting came from the crystalline chandelier hung at the epitome of the ballroom, it was actually quite dim given the streamers, and velvet drapes being hung amongst other ornaments in the skyline. I thought it would shade me, and also given my semi camouflage costume which had been a strapless royal black number and the same colored mask. My long ebony hair was curled as per usual, and I stood taller than my normal height with the pumps that covered my feet.

Well what I planned to be a dismissible appearance backfired.

All eyes turned to me as I walked down the staircase of the entrance and into the dance floor. It wasn't as dramatic as you'd thought it'd be, with everyone stopping short in their respective activities, but I had quite the number of testosterone gawking from my legs up to the top.

I was glad that the mask had hid most of my expression and the red that was surely covering my cheeks. I made it quickly down the steps and scurried over to the drinks table, where the crowd was smaller.

Despite how I scampered and cowered away from the limelight earlier, the aftereffects of it was somewhat pleasant. My heart no longer beat so frivolously, and I felt a sense of pride for myself. It's like a reminder of how it felt like to be a dominatrix, a total magnet and dare I say it, it felt good, addicting even.

Korra was so right. I felt less depressed already, not that I'd ever admit that to her. She'd get smugger than ever.

Speaking of the girl, she was already smirking right my way. Of course, she'd recognize me despite the partial concealment of my face.

I marched towards her, or maybe just plain out walked, because my shoes weren't letting it. "Happy?"

The olive skinned girl was dressed as Pocahontas, her brown hair let down and straightened for once, in a rather bare ethnic costume that was minimal but not overly scandalous, her skin painted with tribal tattoos that made her even more exotic if possible. Despite the overall simplicity and naturalness of the look, Korra had never looked more ravishing. I was sorta envious about that nature of hers, she'd even pull off being stranded in a desert, bathed in sweat and would've still looked darling.

She gaped once I came closer.

"One word, _hot._ Black Swan? Okay, 'Ami," she paused, her hand going over the layered fabric of my ballet dress, "This must've cost you a fortune!" She exclaimed, awed while examining the luxurious texture of feathery and lacy goodness that covered my top half and then some. I chuckled, thinking of how she did it without the budget, beating me by a mile away despite of what other more materialistic girls may have thought.

Korra really wasn't living up to her beauty as for most days at school everything she wore would uncannily resemble what those greasy men at the petrol station I'd fuel my ride at when in a hurry would wear. Nothing but over-sized hood jackets, sweat shirts, jeans and cargo trousers. And to top it all, her ridiculously manly wolf tail up-do. She kinda made up for it when she wore her swim suit and tighter tees plus shorts whenever in those crazy workouts. As a girl, she would definitely put grown athlete men to shame with her habit of exercise.

Korra was slim and well endowed (easy enough to see without inspection) but impressively muscled in her build if you paid attention, and yet she was also the shorter one in a bunch though not by much. She was happy enough with her height though that she'd let herself wear flat strapped leather gladiator sandals to complete her outfit. The height difference between her and Mako actually made them even cuter looking as a couple. He had to bend down and all to peck her cheek.

"Holy, is _that_ who I think it is?" Mako, or Sir John Smith for tonight questioned, visibly perplexed. With the way he was speaking, something tells me that the alcohol had got him to relax a bit. Korra was surely glad for the change, I'd know, because with Mako losing his usual uptight act, he was actually more affectionate and easier to talk to. He could even pass on a decent joke.

"Yes. She _is_ the girl who played matchmaker for the both of you," I said lightly, without thinking much, and it actually feels good to let loose for a while. I really didn't feel any hurt, or heartache for the moment. Maybe I was past it. Maybe.

Mako laughs then and humbly stated, "I never got to thank you for that. Consider this my thanks." Speedily he'd offer me a glass of champagne aside from the one he had for himself, and I gladly took it. Korra was also equipped with the liquor.

"A toast to undying friendships?" She suggested positively.

"Sure," I said.

The three glasses clicked, and each of us gulped down our drinks. And like the perfect gentleman, my ex carried away our glasses. "I'll leave you two ladies to chat. I think my brother might need some help," his voice was low with a flash of subtle worry claiming his amber orbs, and then he was gone, reverting back to the Mako we both know so well again. The killjoy.

Before either one of us could've commented about his worrywart and unnecessary mama Mako-ness, we were proven wrong as a body sailed through the room akin to Tarzan with the vocal _aahaahaaah_ outburst by the collapsible chain normally used by the daredevils of our school as stunts. It's an annual thing. Don't ask.

We usually don't pay much mind to the performance but when that person _performing_ happened to be my ex's little brother who was also a familiar friend of mine, it's kinda hard to tear your eyes off. Bolin was dressed in full green with this little feathered hat which somehow doesn't come off from his leap, and I guessed, maybe Peter Pan? Kinda suits him. While Mako was practically ancient, the younger sibling was ironically the opposite, a total kid at heart. Meeting both of them separately can be compared to having a severe mood whiplash.

Korra smiled endearingly as she watched a figure speedily running towards the direction of Bolin's landing spot (which was thankfully a pool of bouncy plush cushions somehow conveniently assembled by the end of the room) who couldn't be anyone other than Mako. _"God,_ I love him." Her dreamy face suddenly turned alarmed, and she blushed furiously. "Oops. Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, _yes_ you did." I was having fun torturing the girl, really. My end of the bargain which involved physically coming and showing my face, well half of it in public and conversing with the boy who broke my heart actually paid off, as strange as it sounds. I leaned back coolly against the refreshments table, mirroring Kora's position.

She tried changing the topic, and I let it go. "I think he's trying to impress you," she mused. I didn't have to ask who she was referring to, I knew she meant the free spirited teen who just swung by, albeit in more extreme methods.

"I know." My answer wasn't as impressionable as most girls would've reacted to the statement.

"You didn't miss the wink, right?"

"Nope," I honestly answered.

"Too bad, he's been practicing it."

"Seriously?"

"Well..." Korra's voice had trailed off into a strangely meek note, and I took a deep breath, prepared for speech.

"He's a lunatic. Even though he's a nice kid and I like him in a colleague sort of way," I said, formulating what I hope to be a nice unofficial turn down.

"C'mon. You know how Bo gets when he's swooning over a lady. Give him a chance!" The brunette pleaded, her words almost a whine and far too forceful than what my ears would like to hear.

_"Korra," _she was pushing it a bit too far, and though my voice was gentle, it was stern enough to silence her. "Please. I'm so not ready. And even if I am, it wouldn't be with him."

Her ocean colored eyes tightened, "Why _not_ him? Asami, Bolin's an innocent guy, I guarantee it that he'll look out for you no matter what. Despite the fact that he's broke, he'll treat you like- like a.. _princess!"_

I winced. Was that how she thought I wanted to be treated as? Some sort of princess? Was that why she thought I rejected Bolin? Because of how little money he was able to shower me with? I'm baffled. I was damaged, not haughty. I didn't even know where my confidence can truly be found.

I feel the oncoming wave of anger and disappointment rushing through me. Korra sensed it. "I said something wrong, didn't I?"

The careful hesitation in her remark was enough to slow my budding emotions. "It's okay."

_"Look,_ what I meant was.. You've never let anyone in, not even into that simple one time coffee date thing. When can it be possible for you to open up and be _happy_ again?"

She was out looking for me in earnest, and it flatters me to a degree that I have someone who cares so much, someone who does not even bother to take in how heavily I've tried to ignore their given help.

"I know you're scared of getting upset and hurt all over again. But won't it be worth it to feel a bit of sunshine again even if you get a sunburn? You miss it, I know you do."

Korra read me like an open book, and I've got to hand it to her, she was spot on. And to not answer her was slightly intolerable to me, because her words had really hit their mark home.

"Fine, so what _if_ I do?" I didn't miss the little firecracker jump she did on her sandals. Still I went on pretending I didn't notice it, "I'm not going to die or something from not having the guarantee of a future ring on me after graduation."

"I know. You've got it all planned out. Miss CEO and all," she did a mock salute, and I slapped her by the elbow harmlessly. She laughed, before stopping, "But it won't hurt to have someone special by your side through it all. In fact it'll make the whole thing of being the most independent business woman of all time gig even more spectacular."

"You- you're.."

"Absolutely right?"

"Not so fast, Sparky," I wiggled my index finger as if dealing with Naga, her snow furred pet and not an actual human. "I might give what you say some thought, but I'm not promising anything." I knew the native American princess was doing a victory dance somewhere in her head, so I had to burst her bubble. A bit. She was still quite ecstatic nonetheless. "And under any account, even cancer, you are _still_ _not_ allowed to set me up with Bolin. Understood?"

"Yes, ma' am."

Spontaneously, I grabbed my best friend's hand then and pulled her to the dance floor with me, entering the sea of bodies in motion. "Alright then!"

She didn't expect my sudden tug, and didn't put up a fight. I could tell Korra was itching to get a bit wild to release her inhibitions anyways.

I wasn't dancing much, even when I pretended to. It was still kinda hard to have fun and completely lose myself in trance to the clubbing vibe honestly despite the simultaneous compulsion calling all around me.

So I came up with a plan, it was easy enough to pull off so I went for it. I immediately spotted Mako with his hunter's shirt and vest, and that wild mop of jet black hair which was always easy enough to distinguish. I'd purposely made Korra and I to dance away in his direction and in no time with a few twists and turns, the young man had occupied the petite girl. In other words, the two were entirely caught up like love struck teens, obliviously dancing and clinging together to the deafening beat of the music.

And I.. I walked away.

* * *

I was rather surprised that I managed to find solitude within this wild house of cards. It was a private balcony at one of the upper levels, overlooking an impressive stretch of the neighborhood. The sound of music doesn't entirely escape me, it never truly leaves, but it was considerably dimmed into a humming noise with the distance I've covered from its source.

The objective here was to get some time away for myself to clear my thoughts, and it worked. The scene was tranquil, and the night breeze did a rather good job at chilling me to the bone in my thin dress. Too bad I didn't bring a coat.

I whirled around in my heels when the sound of a throat clearing demanded my attention. I turned back to see a man, no doubt the one who made the call. "May I join you?"

The stranger's voice was unique. It was hoarse, raspy yet thick. If he'd use if to yell or let out anything harsher it would've been powerful, but his inquisition was so gentle, I had almost missed it.

"Of- of course."

I stammered, not really knowing why he'd ask that for most people would've just barged in. Maybe he thought it was a secret place or something, and didn't want to intrude. How thoughtful. Most wouldn't be as considerate.

The man stepped farther outdoors, and I take in, or perhaps admire his polished appearance. His build was quite imposing, similar to Mako's in form. He was dressed in an all black tailored suit and a really nice pair of shoes. Over his shoulders he adorned a thick velvety maroon open coat which looked more like a cape with the way it went down all the way until his knees.

His face was masked like mine, although his mask was silver in color and it covered almost all of his face, excluding a part of his lower left cheek. If he meant to wear a conservative disguise to downplay his handsomeness, it failed. Even with the minimal face reveal I could see he was very good looking, his bone structure strong and masculine, and that voice, it was impossible to have a voice that raw and husky and not look the part.

His hair was combed back, and it was black. I couldn't really tell what color his eyes were, for they were shaded by the folds of his mask, but I hope to find out, somehow, soon.

"Thank you," he thanked me softly before his weight rested beside me as we both leaned by our elbows on the bone white cement railing. "I don't think I've ever seen you before," he claimed.

"Well I haven't been out a lot lately," I answered truthfully. I didn't recognize him either but maybe he was a junior college student, he looked mature and composed I noted, unlike the raving boys who populated my school. Either way, he was attractive, and sophisticated beyond my comprehension. "I could say the same for you."

"Outings have never been my strong suit too, I actually came as a favor to an old friend," he explained, and I felt that I could relate, nodding silently and he sees this. "Bad day?"

"Not so much as a bad year," my reply made him chuckle, and the sound sent goosebumps going up my arm. He was seductive without even trying to be. What a mystery!

"It tangles me to see that a beautiful young lady such as yourself would be alone here, in the dark instead of having a good time inside," he says. He was a smooth talker it seems, but I could also tell his words were genuine. I blushed at the compliment. "I'm not like most girls. At least not anymore."

_"Ah,"_ he lets out, mildly interested at the implications I gave. "How so?"

I don't know why I answered him, nor told my story (though in a strictly vague and abbreviated version), but somehow it just felt right slipping through the cold, dry air.

I didn't feel tense, despite how I would sharing such things under normal circumstances. "This used to be my life. Friends, parties, boys.." I earned quite the name back then as a socialite, a name I both regretted and treasured in some ways.

"You were an animal?"

I could tell he wanted to ask more, perhaps of why I've changed, but he didn't let himself continue, respecting the boundaries that exists.

"Well that's a straight way to phrase it. So _yeah,_ you could say that," I breathed out a gust of warm expired air, visible like it's fog or cigarette smoke from the altitude. I shivered when a particularly cold wind blew, and was unable to hide it well enough.

The mystery man clasps off his outerwear, the red coat and drapes it securely over my shoulders before I knew what was going on. I turned to him shyly, "You- you don't have to do that." _You don't even know me._

"Please, this is the only time I actually wanted to on my own will. It's no big deal. You won't believe it how many girls down there tried to make me give up one or more of my clothing articles," he shrugs, both irritated at the memory and somewhat grateful it has ended, and waves it off. I giggled._  
_

_Such a devil. Of course the ladies would devour him. He succeeded coming out unscathed though._

"Thank you," I said. "You are awfully nice." And all I had to ask was.. _why? _But I didn't._  
_

"And you are awfully bashful for someone of your standards," he jabs playfully, his tone a picture of mock seriousness. True, I could see his point, I was practically dressed to break your heart, but it seems like I'm doing a horrible job at that except to myself. I told him the truth, a bit flirtatiously I might add.

"Well you happened to be the only new guy I've ever talked to in what seems to be years. Of course I'm bound to be out of my game from the lack of field experience. But then again if you're still here, I guess I'm not doing that bad of a job, am I?"

"Touché."

Then a miracle actually happened. We stayed there, side by side, conversing deeply for who knows how long that I lost track of time. He was intelligent, that much I could easily discover with his eloquent words. We spoke of nothing and everything. This rarely, I meant, never happened. Not ever since the last one.

And I thought, never again.

I was wrong.

* * *

"So.. Phantom of the Opera, huh?" I inquired the inspiration for his immaculate costume, tipping back slightly on the column support to regard him. My body language had somehow melted into a careless feat, no longer stiff and controlled like it'd been an hour ago.

He nods. "Good job. Some people actually mistook it for modern day Dracula." There was some distaste to his voice and I couldn't agree more. People needed to develop better appreciation for the older works. The classics.

"It was one of my favorite plays when I was young," I said.

"Aren't you still young?" If I could see his face, he'd be quirking his eyebrow right now or smirking, I just know it.

"Yes, but you know how it gets when you've been through a lot that you feel like- like you're-"

He cuts me off gently, finishing my sentence, "Alive longer than you should've been."

"Exactly," I remarked, breathless, once again charmed by him.

Distantly I heard a rumbled cheering coming from below, and I could only assume they were counting down the seconds to midnight. They were acting as if it's New Year's Eve or something when it's just Halloween, a celebration for the superstitious and paranormal.

The city hall's clock tower chimed then, like a bell or a time bomb, depending on how you see it.

In the process of regaining focus, I felt his weight shifting to move behind me, and I spun around, almost expecting it.

Mesmerized, that's what we both are.

His exposed fingers touched the curve of my mask, trailing along its fabric in wonder of what beauty lies beneath. I felt electricity surging through when his skin had accidentally met mine in an imprecise moment of disorientation.

Apparently it affected him in some way too when he pulled his hand back as if stung, though not letting it fall just yet, to linger aimlessly in the air, accompanied by a look of combined yearning and uncertainty in his eye. He was deciding against it, forging a war against our chemistry.

Riddled with fear despite the solace, I'm doing the same thing too.

Another cold wind blew and then, the fire from the shining, lit miniature chandelier meters above our heads dies out. Without anymore candles, we were held in a chasm of oblivion, only able to catch glimpses of silhouettes. I find that under the darkness it's far easier to let go.

And that's when I closed my eyes, waiting in anticipation, my heartbeat loud and fast as a drumming song began. I distinctly hear the sound of a lightweight object falling to the ground without much resistance, restless now that I have a clue of what it might be. Then what could only be his soft lips tentatively brushed against mine, and I met him halfway into this stolen, deeply hidden kiss, the oxygen leaving my lungs.

In the darkness, I let go.

* * *

_A/N: Made Mako an underdog boxing champ in this. And the whole out-fighter type for him references his firebending style I guess, since he's better at long range than close and he's got some fancy feet. Borrowed some stuff from 'The Voice In The Night' too. Decided to write this in Asami's POV, honestly, I'm not used to it but I'll roll. Tell me what you think?_

_Now I'm not usually a review monster, but my word count for each chapter's going to be similar in length so you get the picture. And editing takes quite a bit of effort, especially for someone of my standards. So, get me up to 15 reviews if you'd be so kind?  
_

_Thanks. :)  
_


End file.
